Confessions of a Teenage Hero
by friar jerome
Summary: New hero. starts just before the events of the final episode of season one. A new hero has to learn to deal with their powe AND teenagerhood.
1. Chapter 1

The curtain shhhsed across the window, allowing in rays of light that stabbed into my eyes.

_Great, just great. Another day in the "paradise" that is New York. _I hauled myself out of bed. My host "Mum", Helen, left my room. I pulled on some clothes and walked down the stairs to a feast of a breakfast.

"Okay, what's happening today?" I asked my host "father, John. He lowered his newspaper, revealing a pair of twinkling blue eyes beneath a slightly receding hairline.

"I do believe that today is Duncan's birthday." Duncan was Helen and John's son, who was, as of today, the same age as me, sixteen.

"Oh, I thought that was tomorrow. Oh well, it's a good thing I got his pressie early."

"Pressie?"

"Present. Must be New Zealand slang." With that I darted up the stairs, into my room. I rummaged through my sock drawer and pulled out, with some satisfaction, a small box wrapped in silvery paper. Holding it triumphantly, I descended the stairs. Duncan was sitting at the table with Helen and John. As no-one was eating I assumed they were waiting for me. I placed my small box ceremoniously atop the pile in front of Duncan's plate. He looked at me and smiled; obviously pleased I'd gotten him something.

"Well, this food isn't going to eat itself. Dig in." Helen said. We did. It was good food. She makes some great eggs. I still ask for fried eggs, despite her insistence that I should have them "over easy", what ever that means.

After about half an hour later, when we'd had enough, Duncan turned his eyes to the presents. Wrapping paper soon littered the floor as he opened CDs, thoughtful cards from relatives and friends, gift vouchers, and even a book. He strangely left my present till last, opening it carefully. He pulled out a watch. It wasn't much, just a $30 sports watch, but by the way his face lit up, you'd think I'd given him a golden Rolex. He muttered his thanks. I felt my face begin to go red. I stood, saying,

"I s'pose I should go get ready for school now." I slipped quickly out of the dining room, up the stairs, and into my room. I closed the door and slid down the inside of the door. My knuckles began to itch furiously.

Authors note: can you guess what His/Her power is? The closest guess/the one who actually reviews will get a cameo in the next chapter and possibly a recurring role!!

Same goes for suggestions of gender for Sam.


	2. Not Good

_What is wrong with me?_ I rubbed my knuckles as I stood. _He's not that great. I mean, he's nice and not that bad looking, but… _ I pulled out a skirt from the wardrobe. _It'll do._ I searched through my drawers and pulled out a t-shirt that would go with the skirt.

I shoved some books into my satchel and swung it on. I checked my hair in the mirror as I left._ Why do I bother with my hair? It's not like I really care what other people think._

_Ahem. _Great. That little voice of truth in the back of my mind.

_Go away. I just want to delude myself for once._

_I'm not going to let you. You know you care what other people think. By the way, stop scratching your knuckles. Something bad's about to happen._

_Shut up._

_Fine then, ignore me._

_Fine then, I will._ I waited for a second

_Ha. It's gone._ I scratched my knuckles. They really were itching badly.

I walked down the stairs and slipped quietly out of the house. The bus swung around the corner just as I left the house. The bus's door creaked open to let me through. Not many people were inside. I sat down about halfway along the bus. The door swished open behind me, letting Duncan in. he sat near the front, where he always does.

The bus groaned away from the kerb and trundled down the street towards the next pickup.

After a while the bus filled and it pulled up in front of the school. The doors opened releasing the flood of students out into the school yard. I stood for a while on the grass, just enjoying the warmish autumn breeze. The bell rang, a hammer shattering my reverie like a pane of glass.

I walked down the hall into homeroom. Just a normal day. As the morning slipped past, I slipped into the half-trance that lies between paying attention in class and actually ignoring the teacher.

The bell rang out over the voice of Mrs Kirsten, signalling the end of history, and the beginning of lunch.

"Hey, Indie girl!" a voice rang out across the cafeteria. It was Jed. He was one of the "cool guys", you know, the ones that think they're cool but no-one else does?

I rolled my eyes and ignored him. I grabbed my lunch and sat at a table with my friends. Yeah, that's right, I have friends. I pulled that annoying paper cover off my straw and plunged the straw into my bottle of coke.

"Bad day?" it was Jess. She sat across from me, looking sympathetic.

"No, not bad, just boring." I replied, digging into my salad. Stupid salad. Only stupid thing I can get that's gluten free. And then it's only if I pick the croutons out.

"Well, I'm going out to a movie tonight. Wanna come?" it was Sam. Yes, another Sam. Apparently it's one of the more popular names for girls at the moment. That's why Jed called me Indie girl. Indie's my nick name. There are so many Sams around, both guys and girls. It's just easier.

"Nah, its Duncan's birthday. We're going out for dinner." The rest of lunch passed, strangely enough, in relative silence.

The bell rang again, yelling at us to get to class. I dumped the plastic containers of my lunch (two salads, a coke, one of those jelly things, an apple, and a packet of chips) into the various bins.

"I can't figure out how you eat so much without gaining weight." Sam said, in amazement.

"Two things, it's not that much, and secondly, I do a lot of running. You know that."

"Yeah, well, it still amazes me." I checked my timetable to see what I had next.

"Yes! Computer studies!"

Sam just rolled her eyes and went off to whatever she had.

I plonked myself in front of my computer. The familiar blue glow of Windows XP lit up the darkened room as twenty other students booted up their computers.

I started up MSN. The teacher didn't really care what we did on the computers so long as we didn't mess with the school system.

-AlcarinElen_- _has logged on.

-AlcarinElen-says

-Hey hey wats up

-indiechick- says

-Not much

-my knuckes itch like heck tho

-AlcarinElen- says

-suckful

-howzit in USA

-indieckick says

-bored

-not that diff from home

-AlcarinElen-  says

-hey check this out

-out

- clicked the link. It sent me to some kind of website devoted to, I don't know how to put it but here goes, super powers in humans.

-indiechick says

-its kinda weird

-seems legit tho

-is it a joke

-AlcarinElen- says

-I dont think so

-wouldnt it rock to be able to fly

-indiechick says

-that'd rock harder than us

-lol

-AlcarinElen- has logged off

_That was weird. s'pose I'd better work now_. By the time the bell interrupted the classes one last time for the day, I'd achieved more than I had for the last five lessons combined.

I clambered onto the bus again, sat on my usual seat, and zoned out till the bus stopped to let me and Duncan out.

I looked at my watch. 6.10. I had twenty minutes till we were going out. The black dress or the green one?

_Yo. It's me again._

_Oh, hello Truth. Black dress or green?_

_Green. But that's not important. You're still itching your knuckles. You need to stop._

_Ok, thanks. Bye._

_Wait! Don't make me go back there! It's dark in there! NOOOO!!_

_Hello? You still there? No? Good?_

Stupid voice of truth. I put on the green dress.

Duncan walked in, being quiet.

"Hey, Duncan." I said, without turning.

"How'd you know it was me? I'm not even in your room yet. I was just about to knock." I turned. The door was almost shut. It swung open, revealing Duncan, looking surprisingly nice, in a button-up shirt and black pants.

"Man, you scrub up half-decently. I thought I heard you. That's why I said hi. Are you wearing man-scent?" man-scent being a generic term for anything a man might put on to make him smell better, aside from deodorant.

"No, why?"

"Just thinking. It might've been why I noticed you. But it wasn't."

"Oh, well. We're going in five. Dad told me to tell you." With that he left.

The restaurant was nice. Duncan happened to like Italian food. This is good for me for two reasons. One, I make a mean bolognaise (but that is only thing I can make well), and two, I like Italian food.

"And, uh, I'll have the 12oz steak." The waitress disappeared to bring us our drinks.

"What?" Helen and John were looking amused at me.

"Oh, nothing. It's just that, you're getting a bigger steak than I am, and I'm probably about twice your size." John said.

"You can have bread. I can't." I said. Helen came over to my side.

"Leave her alone Hon, she just likes her food, that's all."

The dessert came out.

"mm, fudge brownies." I was almost drooling into my plate. They were delectable little gluten-free puffs of chocolate fudge.

The desserts disappeared quickly. Everyone stood to leave. My clutch bag vibrated on the table. I dove for it and pulled out my phone. I put it up to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hello." The voice wasn't one that I recognised, but sounded friendly, with a vaguely Israeli inflection to the voice.

"You guys go home. I'll get a taxi. I've got the money." I whispered to the others.

"Who is this?"

"My name is Hana Gitelman. Who are you?"

"Sam James."

"Sam? As in Samantha?"

"As in Samra. But I prefer Sam."

"I was Sam for a while, I'm not to sure if I can call someone else Sam. Do you have a nick-name or something?"

"Yeah, my friends call me Indie. But why did you call me?"

"You're on the list. Beware. There are people who want to hurt you."

"What list? Why?" there was no answer, only static.

I lowered the phone. _Weird._

A bright flash lit up a plaza further down the road. _Should I check it out?_

_Why not?_ Strange, the little voice of truth hardly ever agreed with me or let me have my own way. _Oh well, better enjoy it while I can._

I walked quickly down the road. The flashes were getting brighter, switching between red and white.

A sudden flash, brighter than the rest, illuminated a sign.

Kirby Plaza.

The flash also illuminated a small group of people. They looked like they were fighting one man.

"Hey!" _oh crap. I don't believe I just did that._ The group turned to look at me. One of them broke away, and came running towards me. I began stumbling backwards, away from the figure running towards me. Another flash showed the figure. She was about my age. I stopped.

"What are you doing here? Get away from here! It's not safe!" she screamed at me as she came closer. Hana's words came ominously back to my mind.

"What? What's not safe?"

"Everything!" she yelled at me as she almost tackled me.

The itching of my knuckles suddenly disappeared. She pushed me away from her. Three bloody gashes ripped her sweater. The flesh behind the rips in the sweater healed, leaving unscarred flesh amid the blood stains on the sweater.

I looked at my hands.

"Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap."

Sticking out from between my knuckles on both hands were three bone claws, soaked in blood.


	3. Freaking Arm

Mr Zaleski marked up the next problem on the board

Disclaimer: AU heroes fanfic, Don't read if you don't like, Yadda Yadda Ya.

Authors note: Hey guys, sorry for the absolute crap that was the previous incarnation of this chapter. Here is my new, revised edition. Following a decision made by me, this will be one of the last few chapters. This does mean that I'm not going to be exploring Sam's story. Sorry.

--

I held up my hands in horror as the claws slid slowly back into my arms.

"Oh no. Oh crap. This is not good." I said, as I stumbled backwards. The girl I had stabbed turned and looked up. I looked up. A bright, glowing light shot up above the height of the city, and exploded.

Blinded momentarily by the flash, I stumbled off the kerb, and landed hard on my arm.

The nurse that was looking after me was nice. She'd made sure a doctor got my arm checked out, and then she'd plastered it herself.

"Thanks for looking after me." I said, as she handed me over to the Jemison's.

"It was no trouble. It got me away from those two guys with the gunshot wounds. Let me tell you, bullet wounds are so much worse than a broken arm. Especially one that should be fine in about six weeks."

I followed John and Helen out to their car.

"Ok, Sam, what happened?" John asked when we'd pulled away onto the freeway.

"John, she's just broken her arm. I'm exhausted, you're exhausted and she's exhausted. Its two in the morning, can't we just leave it till morning?" Helen pleaded, ever the voice of reason.

"Fine." He sighed. I don't remember the rest of the trip back; I'd just fallen straight to sleep as soon as the talking had ended.

Beep beep. Beep beep.

"Guh. Hubwauh." I slapped at the clock, knocking it off the table with my cast.

I rolled over, and got up. I struggled into some clothes, before walking down to breakfast.

"Well?" John said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well what? Oh, about last night. I was on the phone, and I was walking down the street as I talked. Then a street light burst, I fell back, and landed on my arm." I said, improvising right from the word go. Confidence is the key for believable improvised stories. And realism. Oh, and keep to your story, don't go off on a tangent. It never helps.

"I see." John said. For a second I thought he was going to call my bluff, but he just went back to his toast.

Breakfast was finished in silence. I slipped away just after Duncan.

The bus ride to school was quiet. A few people gave me some weird looks, but that was probably because of my arm.

The bus came to a stop, and we filtered out.

"Oh my god! Indie! What happened?" It was Jess. She was loud. Very loud. I rolled my eyes. She was also very dramatic. I had to explain the censored version at least eight times before she calmed down.

Luckily, the remainder of the day passed without anything more than that.

I stepped into the house, dog-tired. Although that comment is rather speciesist. Helen was there, as she was always there.

"How's your day?" she asked, nonchalantly.

"Oh, not too bad. Sam freaked out about my arm, got homework, got hit on by some 10th graders. You know, the usual. I'll be upstairs, probably talking to friends."

I darted upstairs before she could question me further.

I poked my head into Duncan's room.

"Hey, You wanna play xbox?"

"Nah, got homework." was the eventual reply.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I've really got to get this done."

"Want help? What's it about?"

"Um, it's math. Trigonometry."

"Oh. Trig. I hate trig. But, I can help." I walked into his room and shoved him across his seat, and sat down. His desk had an open text book, and a math book filled mostly with bad pencil sketches. Actually, most of the sketches weren't that bad. I stared at the page for a while.

"Pencil. And calculator." He gave them to me wordlessly. I scribbled some figures down on the page.

"…And cosine that. Then do a negative cosine." I finished.

"Thanks. I still don't get it. But now, at least I can do it. Thanks."

"You're welcome. Just make sure you erase my scribbling. My handwriting is nothing like yours." I stood up, and left the room.

I stepped into my room. It wasn't much, pretty bare, with my bed to one side, a duchess beside a desk laden with various pieces of paper, and in the far corner, a TV. Connected to the TV was my birthday present, an Xbox 360. Every time I turned it on, I prayed that the Red Ring Of Death would pass it over. I bent down, and turned it on. I held my breath. It turned on, and I placed a disk into the drive.

I sat down and played.

--

Author's note. Don't worry about reviewing. I don't exactly care about this fic that much. I'm gonna finish it though.


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